The Watchword

The Watchword.
John Kendrick Bangs
23.2

Give of your mass of gold,
Send to the prostrate West
Some of that wealth untold
Digged from her virgin breast.
Give!

Give of your meager store,
Send from your cupboard bare
Out to the wasted shore,
If but a pittance share.
Give!

Give of your brother heart
Quick of its golden glow.
Let the love cargo start
Out to the field of woe.
Give!

Give of your health and strength,
Give of your helping hand,
Over its breadth and length
Vieing with all the land.
Give!

Give of the healing light
Quick to the souls that grope;
Send to the hearts affright
Messages filled with Hope.
-John Kendrick Bangs